KIERAN

"Are you hungry, princess?" I asked as I finished buckling her seatbelt. She looked up at me, her face pale, those green eyes dull and distant—and I felt a sharp flare of anger. At myself.

She shook her head. I cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, her long lashes fluttering shut like they always did when she craved comfort.

"Are you sure? What about ice cream?" I offered gently. "Do you want some?"

Her eyes opened at that, but she didn't react. Just stared at me, and for a second, I swore I saw them shimmer.

I stiffened. "Do you feel any pain? Does your stomach...